4 AM
by Asuka Kureru
Summary: 1x2x1, angst,romance,supernatural Heero is dead. But Duo refuses to let go. Sequel to TwoOne by Sailor Seraphim. Ghost fic. DISCONTINUED.
1. Four AM

****

4 AM 

****

Author: Asuka Kureru (sequel to Two/One by Sailor Seraphim.)

****

Beta-reader: Kitty Chou *cuddlepurr* 

****

Disclaimer: Boys not mine. Stop. Plot not mine. Stop. Well kinda. Stop. Uh. oh, hell, half-mine. Stop. 

****

Pairing: 2+1

Warnings: Yaoi, Duo POV, Heavy angst, Supernatural stuff. 

****

Notes: Sequel to Two/One by Sera-love. - here.

http:// www. sweetlysour.net/ seraphim/ twoone.htm (just get the spaces out, it's to prevent ffnet from eating the url)

****

WARNINGS FOR Two/One : yaoi, lemon, death, insanity?, supernatural, zombies, blood, suicide attempts. 

It's done very beautifully from my point of view, but it CAN squick people, so I'm warning you.

****

You don't really have to read Sera's fic if some of her warnings squick you. Just know that Heero is dead. ^_______^ (but I swore that I wouldn't write deathfics anymore after Why Do You Sleep So Still, and you know what? I still am not. Because he may be kind of ...living impaired, but he's not gone at all. *cuddles Heero*)

There is going to be a sorta arc of fics and ficlets in this universe, because I have so many ideas, but am too lazy to work on a real multipart and that way, I can stop anytime if I feel like it. XD 

-----------------------------------

4 AM.

Two hours to live again. 

Finished.

Two hours to die again.

Drop by drop.

6 AM .

Emptiness.

When the first rays of the sun brush me, I drag myself up from the slab of cold stone I was laying on, hoping somehow to melt through it to join him underground. It didn't work of course. It never does. 

The sun is hurting my eyes. I hate him. Die, sun. I curse you. 

I want the moon to be back. I want her full, above me, because it means the night hasn't ended yet, because it means the two hours...

Two hours. Two hours of bliss, for 364 days and 22 hours of hell. 

I'll see you next year, Heero, love. But it's so far away.

I know, I know. I only live for those two hours. If I didn't have them, if I thought you weren't there anymore, if I believed there was nothing after and you had just... been erased... I'd have killed myself long ago... even by holding my own breath if our friends had taken away from me every other way. Knowing that you're still there somehow is the only thing that keeps me going. But... 

But now, faced with the unavoidable wait, I can't help but feel crushed under the weight. It's so long, so hard, so cold to live all year without you, love, for two hours of satiating my flesh in your embrace. 

I am not saying that I don't want to anymore, that I don't want to wait for you... Even if I had two minutes with you every twenty years, I'd still wait for you. Long for you, desire you, dream of you. I love you, Heero. 

I miss you so much already. It's always sharper right away after you've left me again to slide back in your tomb. It will be weeks before the sharpest edge fades a little and I can breathe again, but even then, I won't be free of the emptiness. I only feel alive when I'm with you, my love. 

And you're dead. Heh. But then we always knew I was fucked up, didn't we?

I don't know how long it will be before I follow you. Not too long, I think. I miss your embraces, but at least I get to have them... two hours a year. But your simple presence behind me, your smirks, your shy smiles, your comments to the movies I force you to watch, your annoyed glares when I track mud inside the house, your failed attempts at cooking for me, the way your mind would meet mine over a mission plan or a chess board or even something as simple as tennis, matching, knowing mine, your so tender hands taking mine in between yours, and the way you'd stare at our rings, glinting side by side... 

I don't track mud inside the house anymore. I don't play chess either. I've grown tired of playing again those games I played against you. Even against your memory, I still lose every time. 

That may be because every time, I can't help but play the moves I played then, as if doing anything else was sacrilegious to your memory. 

I miss your love surrounding me, and while those two hours of sharing our bodies and hearts give me sustenance for the rest of the year, I miss your mind. I miss your voice. I miss the way you inspired me. I miss your calmness to counter my agitation, miss your method opposing my irrationality; I even miss us butting heads over silly matters like the order in which we had to wash the dishes, or the color of our furniture. 

Not everything we shared was sexual, and while I need making love with you like I need breathing, it doesn't mean that I need the rest of you any less.

As I walk to the iron gates that separates the place my love lies from the rest of the world, that world I have to walk alone, I already know that this year, the void threatening to devour me won't be so easy to keep at bay.

Already my resolve is weakening.

Maybe next year I'll give you more than two inches of hair and a few drops of blood.

Maybe next year, you'll take me under with you. 

I want to sleep in your arms again.


	2. One Year Later

****

One Year Later.

2 AM. Here we are again, Heero, my love. 

As I had predicted, it's been a hard year. Harder than ever. Missing my love so much. Having to deal with a new bout of mother-henning by Quatre; I wasn't cautious enough and he realized my "obsession" still ran just as deep. 

I avoid him now. He's a true friend and I'm missing him, but I've grown tired of his pitying looks. He's as obsessed with healing me from what he perceives as temporary insanity as I am with not letting go of Heero. He doesn't understand that if I let go of Heero, there will be nothing of me left, that it won't be anything else than another form of that suicide he made me swear off. I avoid Trowa too since most of the time when one is somewhere, the other is there too, but at least Trowa doesn't nag me. I think that, if he doesn't understand, he accepts, at least. I'm lucky he isn't the kind of guy who will let a friendship die from lack of meetings. I could spend years without seeing him, and when I chance upon him, everything would be the same as before. No anger, no resentment, no demands, just a calm, faintly amused presence. 

Wufei's discovered a new depth to his friendship with me. He didn't ever talk about it, and he's too proper and too honorable to openly or discretely propose anything, but I'm not stupid. I know.

He knows I'm not stupid, he knows that I know, but we never talk about it. He's a lot like my husband in some aspects, but they're only general things. They're the same kind of people, driven, dedicated, silent but always watching, hiding dry wits behind an aloof act. But it isn't Heero's soul that shines through his eyes. 

He doesn't realize that I'm even less of an idiot than he believes. I know things that he doesn't know himself. 

Sometimes, when he looks at me, it's his Meiran that he sees in my eyes. He's nearly as "obsessed" as I am; he just does a better job at hiding it from others; from himself. He thinks he has let go. Fat chance. 

Even if I could let another man into my heart anyway –which I can't; Heero's been branded into my soul – even if I could change my affection and respect for Wufei into something akin to romantic interest, even if I wasn't devoured alive by the pain of seeing him so alike and yet so different from my Heero, we wouldn't have a good relationship. You can never compete with the ghost of your companion's true soulmate. He should realize that. I did.

I'm sad for him, because he lost Meiran before they realized what they had and now, he doesn't want to face what he's lost. I'm sad for him, because he wouldn't feel so tortured if ever he only accepted to see the hole in his life. At least he could attempt to build around it, instead of crossing and crossing it, and wondering why he trips every time. 

And I bet he's never thought of going to her tomb and offering his hair and his blood –not that I know if this ritual would work for him. Maybe he needs another ritual, with symbols that would be his own. Maybe he just can't, because I'm some sort of... what is it called ? Medium? Necromancer? In that case I'm lucky. Lucky to have received the gift that permits me to see Heero again. Two hours a year. 

Two hours of lovemaking. 364 days and 22 hours of searing loneliness. This last year, I've fully realized something. 

This isn't enough.

-----

I have read, and researched. Finally questioned the gift I had received. Most of what I found was bullshit, RPG stats, dark fairytales. Of course zombies –what an ugly word- are not supposed to exist. But I'm nothing if not dedicated, and the stakes are more than enough motivation. And at least, the feeling of doing something at last helped me to soothe the gaping hole in my heart, to stall the pain. But every time I failed, every time I hit a dead end, it came back even harder. I think it was that for the first time since Heero had been torn from me, I allowed myself to hope. Hope hurts.

My hope told me that I was still more alive than I had believed. It was battered and bruised along the year, but every time I thought it would finally die, it was fed and nurtured by my knowledge that one way or another, this is the last year... the last I spend without my other half. 

This year, when the two hours end, either I will have Heero with me, or I will be dead. And be with Heero. As I see it, either way I win. 

-----

Finally, I stand before the grave. The moon is out tonight, as always for this night of the year. I'm grateful. I need to see what I'm doing, because this year, the ritual will be different.

From what I understood of my research, when I give Heero blood, I give him the energy he needs to come back to me. When I give him my hair, I give him an anchor in reality, in materiality. I give him something of a bridge to his own body. Well, more like the bridge is still here, tethering Heero's soul, but broken, and my blood and hair only serve to reinforce it to help Heero come across. There are other details, but they're not as important. 

When I give Heero part of my body, his body comes back to life. But he –his soul –is using so much strength trying to hold it together, trying to stay with me, that he can't use even one ounce of energy for anything else. There is only enough for his body and the purest form of himself, his deepest essence. That's why I only ever hear my name and the ai shiteru that tears at my heart, just before he has to leave again. 

If I want his soul to come back...

Blood, of course, because blood holds power. But my hair... I thought long and hard about that. It's a symbol, sure. My braid has always been a symbol, to me and to him. But it's also solid, something I can touch, and... I don't know how to explain it. 

Anyway, two inches won't be enough this time. According to the books, the strength of the ritual is proportional to the valor of the offering. 

... Heero loves my hair. I'm not sure he'll be happy with me. But to have him back with me... 

...Bah! Hair grows back. 

I settle down on Heero's grave, my back against the headstone, like every year. The position is familiar. Soothing. 

Okay... so what now? Ah, right. Flour and rum. The sources I have all say it helps invoke the ghosts. As I say, even if it does no good, I don't see how it can do bad. I sprinkle the grave with flour before liberally splashing the rum over it. Good rum too, tested it. Tempted to taste it again, just for a drop of warmth in the ice that my body is turning into, but I resist. It's for Heero, not for me.

I place the candle between my legs, over where Heero's chest should be. I made it myself, following tons and tons of constraints and age-old methods and whatnot. Maybe it isn't really important, maybe it's just superstition. Maybe it isn't. Never hurts though. I don't want to fail. Sure, I'll die if I fail, but... As long as I'm with Heero, I'd rather live a little longer. 

They say you have to use either a knife made of either silver or copper, with such and such engravings, but I've found that the really important thing isn't the symbol it is for everyone, it's what it symbolizes for you. I use the knife he gave me for the anniversary of our first meeting. Gundanium. Deathscythe and Wing. I've been using it every year. It will do just fine this year too.

Now the hair and the blood. I throw my shirt away, undo my hair, letting it fall free down my back. It feels nice. It's the last time I'll feel that gentle tickling along my hips before a while, if it works. For a second I see sister Helen giving me that sad look, and it tears at me, but... It's either her or Heero.

She'll understand. I grab the first strand. The blood, as always, comes from when I cut through my hair too fast; but I don't especially care, nor do I feel the pain. 

I can't help but feel a twinge of panicked regret when I look at my hand and find a freakishly long lock of hair in it, the tips brushing patterns into the flour; I cut it close to the scalp. Maybe I shouldn't cut the next ones too close, I'll look weird otherwise. There is blood from my cut hand slowly dripping down the length. My hair looks wet, black against the light. It looks... alien. Was it really part of me? 

I raise it above the flame and watch the still dry ends catch. It stinks. My eyes water. From the smoke of course. It's a thick, dark, nasty-smelling smoke after all. It smells like the ruins of Maxwell Church all over again. 

You see, lots of ethnicities believe that to offer anything to the spirits, who live in the (duh) spiritual plane, you have to burn them. The fire purifies and sends from one world to another. It's that belief that made man begin to burn his dead. 

When my hair stays in this world, so does the power I give Heero, and so... It makes sense for me. 

What I'm doing is offering Heero a new focal point. It will break his link with his body entirely, and that means never having him hold me again, but it also means that the link will be transferred to my own body. I don't know what will happen after that. No one knows, no one ever tried. My lifeforce will have to sustain two souls, and maybe I'll die, but if it happens once the link forged, it won't matter because nothing in this world or the next will ever be able to tear us apart. Maybe my body will live, but our two souls will merge, and we'll be one. I fear losing my individuality, but if that's the alternative to losing Heero, I'll sacrifice it too. 

Maybe I'll die and he'll live. It would suck. Less for me than the contrary though, but that's quite selfish. I hope if that happens, my soul will keep him company.

Now comes the hard part. 

Every time I went through this ritual before, all along, I've been thinking 'come back to me. I need your embrace. Come back to me.' And that's what you've done, Heero, my love. But that isn't what I need to think about this time.

Another strand goes. 'Snip', says the blade. 'Frrr' says the flame climbing the lock. The smoke turns darker, thicker when it reaches the part where my blood is seeping through. 

I need you to stay with me. Over everything else, that is what I need. I will even sacrifice your embraces to have your presence with me. So... stay with me. Please. 

Please. I'm sorry I can't say more, I'm sorry all my words have deserted me. 

Snip, snip. Fffrrrr. 

__

Please.

Snip. 

Nothing is happening. Nothing at all. I'm afraid. I know it's not probably going to happen before the end of the ritual, but... at least a sign, a hint that I'm on the right track...

I need you to come to me, Heero. Don't leave me alone. Am I doing something wrong? Am I destroying the link that moored you to this world by trying to change it into something else?

... Okay, that's it. Enough of being a sissy. The strength of the ritual is proportional to the valor of the sacrifice. I'm ready. 

I gather a big fistful of hair and pull it over my shoulder. The knife is dark with my blood; I notice that it's because I'm holding too close to the blade. I don't care. 

__

'Do that and I'll kick your ass so hard that you will feel my sneaker in your throat.'

...

I think I will cry, when I have laughed enough. 

He's here. He's see-through and blurred, but he's here. 

And like a moron, I only realize that I'm going to throw myself at him when I nearly knock the candle down. I bet I'm as horrified as he looks. Breaking the ritual now before the link between us is sealed will... I don't know what it will, but it won't be pleasant. Here, nice candle. Stay in place, okay? I'm not throwing myself at him, I swear, it would be idiotic, I'd probably go right through him. So stay with me, nice, pretty candle that I handmade and respect your maker, because the two hours aren't finished yet and if you fucking go out, I'll ... use you for something gross. 

Of course melting wax doesn't hurt. Red skin is in anyway. Ow, motherfucker. 

I don't think I've laughed that hard in... Gods, has it been seven years already?

__

'You're nuts, anata.'

Yeah, I love you too, Heero. 

Honest, I do.


	3. Morning After

****

Morning after

The sun is well over the horizon when I wake up sprawled against the tombstone, the morning after the ritual. That isn't what woke me up though; I'm warm and not really uncomfortable after all. But there is a faint sense of urgency, and at first, I don't understand why. Then I forget about it, because when I look around for Heero, he's nowhere in sight. 

I know his appearance the night before wasn't a dream. I know it. I still have wax burns over my hands from grabbing the candle to keep it upright. He was here... and now he isn't. 

For a second, I can only think _'Quatre was right; I'm crazy'_. I get up shakily. My body feels as weak as if I've been running a marathon. My knees don't want to lock properly and when I look around I have to force my eyes to focus... or maybe that's the tears threatening to fall. 

I've disturbed the circle of flour in my sleep. The tombstone is dirty with a dough of rum and flour and melted wax, and I wonder if it's sacrilegious to Heero's memory to dirty his place of rest like that. 

But if he isn't here, I'm not sure I care. It's just stone. Empty. 

The sense of urgency comes back suddenly, and I blink, startled out of my thoughts. I look around... to catch a glimpse of the cemetery's watchman walking through the tombstones. My eyes widen. I've never seen him the years before; somehow I knew that he wouldn't come to Heero's side of the cemetery, pushed away by the same strangeness that makes the moon full and clear and the rain go away. But this year, it's very different. I haven't left with the rising sun. I've fallen asleep. Waited too long. The night isn't here to hide me, to protect me anymore. He's going to see me, see the state of Heero's grave. Have me arrested, too, no doubt. And then Quatre will have me committed to a mental ward somewhere where I won't have the occasion to figure out what I did wrong this time and make it better. 

And they'll try to make me let go of Heero. 

The thought is so repellant that I shudder. No way. Just no way. 

The sense of urgency is stronger now; I realize that the man's closer. In a few seconds he will see me...

__

'RUN!!'

I run. My legs are tired and aching and I stumble a few times when they nearly fold under me, but I run. I need to; I can't think of doing anything else. 

There are screams behind me when the man sees Heero's grave, and the sound of someone running. He's not that old, in his mid forties maybe. In the state I'm in, it's a very distinct possibility that he could catch me. The exit is too far and he's blocking my path to the place I always use to come in, with the trees hiding the dent in the wall where the top bricks fell. 

I nearly turn on the right, but somehow it feels like a bad idea. Left it is. 

Oh, fuck, a wall. Fuck fuck fuck. Never listen to my intuition agai--- is that an open crypt? One of those mini-cathedral-things... And yes, the gate isn't closed all the way. Bingo.

When the man steps in my alley to look around, I've closed the gate and am hiding in the shadows, my back against a tomb, heart hammering in my chest. Apparently he doesn't see me, since I hear him turn away to go the other route. The gravel is loud under his feet; he can't pretend, so I should be safe. 

I sink to the cold marble floor, sighing, and let my head drop on my knees. _'That was close.'_

Fuck yeah, it was--- wait a minute. 

There's a blurred, faint shadow sitting in a crouch in front of me. It's flickering in and out of view, and isn't shaped very precisely; it's like watching a hologram running out of batteries through water. 

But I don't need to see the details to _feel _the amused smirk.

"...You're here."

I can't describe the relief that floods me. It makes me giddy and makes me cry at the same time, and fuck if I don't have to swallow my mad laughter. But even if the watchman came back, I wouldn't give a fuck. 

He fades from view slowly, but that doesn't matter. His voice is soft and warm even when I don't see him. 

__

'... where else would I be?'


	4. Enter Wufei

Enter Wufei

For the next week, I stay at home, walking around in a sort of weird daze--- when I'm not napping. It's as if everything was wrapped up in cotton fluff, but at the same time nothing has ever been sharper, more intense. ...Well, when I'm awake. I'm tired as hell and aching all over, though I'm getting better. But that isn't important. 

Even if I don't see him, I can feel Heero in the house, feel him with that weird spider-sense, just as sharp as I could feel a burglar sneaking in during the night or an Ozzie closing in on me in the war. It's a skill I developed early in life and it has never been wrong. And it tells me that he's here again. He's sitting on the windowsill when I water the plants and behind me when I cook and in his office when I watch TV and suddenly, the house is a home again. 

Though he hardly speaks. 

Since we came back from the cemetery, he hasn't said more than three words. Contrary to popular belief, Heero does talk. His talk is just concise and never without a subject, like I was prone to doing when I was younger. When he talks, he says exactly what he means, hardly a word more or less, but if the subject needs details, then he'll give them. He's not a mute. And that doesn't mean that he only talks about highly serious matters of life and death either. He's totally able to comment on the latest trend in the clothes our neighbor's children are wearing or to tell me why he considers my choice in sock colors hilarious. He talks about just as many subjects as I do; he just chooses his words more carefully.

But recently, he isn't speaking. And I've only seen him twice--- both times in the middle of the night, awakened from one of those nightmares made of loneliness and despair---leaning over me and watching me intently, making sure that I truly was okay. Then he gave me one of his tiny, barely-there smiles and faded from view again. I have the feeling that it's really difficult to him to make himself visible, and I would like to help, but I'm not sure how. I swear, as soon as I get better, I'll run to the bookshops I visited to find my ritual and I'll dig out everything I can. 

For now, I'm tired and he's watching over me. 

It's good to sleep soundly again. 

I wonder how I managed not to hear the phone once during the last week. Okay, I was sleeping most of the time, but still, I would think it's loud enough to wake me up and I must have gotten lots of calls, if I believe the frantic expression on Wufei's face as I open the door to him. 

"Wufei? What are you doing here?" I ask, but I'm not that surprised finally. If I'd been able to think that far, I would have been surprised NOT to hear about him. He and the rest of the gang know well not to call me for a few days after the anniversary of Heero's death, since this is a time where I need my space to find a sort of balance again; and the last time Quatre tried to mother-hen me and guilt me into letting go of my unhealthy obsession the day after I came back from the cemetery, I kind of thew him out the window ---chill out, we're on the ground floor--- but they usually don't grant me more than three or four days before I get a cautious call, usually by Trowa or Hilde since they're more level-headed about it, making sure that I'm still alive and asking how long it will be till they can come and visit.

"What am I doing here?" Wufei looks calm and composed, but that's only at the surface. Underneath he's furious and still worried as hell. Now I'm feeling guilty. 

I haven't answered the phone for seven days. Of course they're worried. I wince. "... Sorry, Wufei... I think my phone doesn't work, or I must have turned the volume down without meaning to." I turn around to guide Wufei to the living room; the guy deserves a coffee at least.

__

'I turned the sound off. You needed the sleep.'

It's a good thing I'm turning my back on Wufei or he'd see my face, and since he hasn't reacted to the soft murmur of Heero's voice, that means he didn't hear anything special, even though Heero didn't speak THAT softly. I get control of my expression, hiding my surprise and my delight at hearing Heero talk to me, and turn to Wufei. "Sit down, man. Black, one sugar?"

He nods. I wonder why he's looking so puzzled. Bah! I'll ask later. I walk to the kitchen, seeing the coffee machine already working. "Thanks, love," I whisper softly. "But don't tire yourself out." 

__

'Ryoukai,' Heero answers, and his presence grows less defined. I grumble; twelve years after the last skirmish and he still can't get rid of the military terminology. But I can't keep the frown on too long, and when I put the coffee cups on the plate, I'm already grinning. I missed his quirks as much as everything else. And the crisp, sharp tone he takes when pronouncing the "ryoukai", determined, nearly commanding... Okay, best not go there now, I don't want Wufei to wonder why Trowa's circus is hiding in my pants.

I put Wufei's cup of coffee down in front of him and sit down, feeling the urge to whistle cheerfully. But if I did that, I'd give the guy a heart attack. I haven't whistled once in seven years. I don't want him thinking that I've finally snapped. 

"So... How've you been, Wu?"

Time, time, I need time. He's going to ask and I don't know how to tell him anything without lying. ... And I don't want anyone else knowing about Heero right now. I doubt anyone else can see him, and if it doesn't fit the definition of hallucination, I don't know what does. 

"I've been fine, Maxwell. ...I see Sally Po and Trowa often." He then tells me a little bit about how they're doing. 

"Work?" I ask. I know he doesn't like to talk about work, because he's still with the Preventers, like we were, Heero and I, before he got shot, and usually, I don't like to hear about it overly much either. 

"Things are a lot calmer now. People are relaxing and getting used to the new peace. ...Being partnered with Marquise is trying, but no one else would be adequate," he adds hesitantly, unsure apparently if that's too much information. 

"Zechs has always been a stuck-up prick," I answer, letting one corner of my mouth curl up faintly in a wry smirk. "But he's good at what he does. As long as you can work around his blue blood and his self-esteem problems... And as long as HE can work around your stubborn-ass self, too."

Ha! He didn't expect that one. He should have, frankly. He's gaping, not knowing whether to laugh, be offended or just stare at me. It's been too long since I teased him last.

I feel my face soften minutely. I have neglected my friends badly, secluded in my despair and ignoring the rest of the world. Sure, Heero is my heart and soul, but that doesn't mean that I should keep on taking what my friends offer me and give nothing in return. They love me too, as I love them. They deserve better. 

"... I'm sorry, Wufei. Bet I've been hard to deal with lately," I murmur, eyes on my cup of coffee. 

He's looking at me, his black eyes serious, vaguely melancholy. 

"I wouldn't say that it's been easy to deal with you, but it was more painful than difficult. But this doesn't matter; we're here as long as you need us. Don't go feeling guilty now; you'd do the same for any of us, wouldn't you?"

I wonder if my smile reflects how shaky I feel. "Of course."

We sit face to face in silence, both pensive, both hoping for things to change for the better. 

He breaks it first. "Duo, may I ask--- that is, you look..."

"Better?" I finish the sentence for him, knowing well what he means. I'm not going to pretend that I don't understand. He deserves more than that.

But I can't tell him the truth either. I hate that, but I want him to be reassured, not to send me to a madhouse for my own good. I'm going to have to do some fancy plays on words. 

"I did a lot of thinking lately..." '...about how to get Heero back mostly,' "and I ...realized something." I hope my tone is meaningful enough for Wufei because I am so not going into the details. After a pause, I continue. "You have to understand that I'll never let go of Heero..." and here I smile at him, "but it doesn't hurt so bad anymore."

I hide a wince at the "but". Everything else is the truth, though certainly not the whole truth, even if it's presented to make Wufei understand something else than what I mean, but the "but" indicates an opposition between not letting go of Heero and not hurting anymore, which is a flat out lie. I'm not hurting anymore BECAUSE I won't let go of Heero, so this is technically a lie. I feel like my head needs a good shower to get rid of the ickiness.

His face went through surprise and hope, to turn to sadness and finally, relief and happiness. It makes the icky feeling left by the lie a little better. If it can make Wufei feel that sort of relief, then it's a good thing, right? A white lie, not that serious. Wufei feels better because he thinks I'm happy again, or, not devastated anymore at least, and even though I wasn't truthful about the reason why I feel better, it is nevertheless true that I do. 

I'll go to a church and confess to the lie, for Father Maxwell and Sister Helen. They taught me not to lie, and I want to atone for that.

Even though I'm not sure they'd approve of what else I've done lately ---the profane rituals, and going against the natural order of the cycle of life and death--- but even their disapproval wouldn't make me change my mind. I can't live without Heero. I can't kill myself, and I don't really want to if there is another choice available. There is another choice available. I'm taking it. I'm not sorry.

"... Duo?"

"Oh, sorry. I was thinking," I answer Wufei, giving him a quick smile to reassure him. It does more than reassure him, if I judge by the way his eyes widen slightly, incredulous, then ---then mist over? Have I really worried him that much? 

"... You smile true again." 

It's the first time of my life that I see Wufei Chang _beam_. 

Of course, two seconds later we're both looking elsewhere, pretending that he never said anything special and deep and meaningful or looked at me so openly, with his soul bare in his eyes, and pretending that I'm not about to cry. We're guys, what did you expect? 

"... So... It's been a while since I went anywhere. Is the park still there? We could take a walk," I suggest almost casually. 

Wufei winces, his expression darkening. "Um. No. Sorry."

... gone? the place where Heero and the guys and I picnicked? The place where we played Frisbee and I tackled Heero on the grass and Trowa and me threw Quatre in the pond is gone? 

__

'Don't be silly, anata. It's just a place. The memories are safe.'

I take a deep breath and give Wufei a small, lopsided smile. "... Well then we'll go somewhere else. It was just a place. Pretty, okay, but..." I shrug, trying to convey the lack of importance of the matter. 

Wufei nods slowly, not sure that he believes my casual tone. He's right, it does sting. But Heero's right, too. I still have the memories, and they're the important thing. It's too bad that we won't be able to go back there, it was a really cool place, but I'll get over it.

I finish my coffee in one big slurp and jump on my feet. "Well then, let's go."

Wufei gets up slowly, smiling in a softened way of the mocking smirk he used to use for me. I see myself in his eyes. Not quite as bouncy, my grin not quite as wide or manic. I'm not the boy I was; I'll never be again. I'm scarred. 

But I don't care about the scars. I survived, and I'll keep on surviving. I'll never give up. That's who I am. 

A survivor. 

I could swear I can feel Heero smile. 


	5. Visiting Old Friends part 1

****

Visiting Old Friends, part 1

I'm such a self-centered bastard sometimes. I was so immersed into being happy I had my husband with me and my life back on track that I only noticed Heero didn't feel okay when he failed to be as enthusiastic as me about that invitation from Wufei.

He's visible more often, now, and when I see him turn away and then, like an afterthought, go invisible, then I understand that we have a problem. But like the ass that I am, I still stick my whole leg into my mouth. 

"What's wrong? You don't want to see the guys?" 

Yeah. Sometimes my stupidity astounds me too. 

I look around, trying to feel him, to know where he's gone, but it isn't easy. "Oh, love, I'm sorry." Of course he wants to see the guys. But it isn't as if they could see him too. 

__

'... It's okay, Duo. Of course I'll come with you.'

That's the tone he takes when he's avoiding the real issue. And I understand what he's not telling, and why he's not talking about it. 

It will suck a lot to be around them and see them ignore him, because he's dead to them. Has been dead for seven years. And while they still miss him, they've moved on... except that he's not really dead. Well technically, he is, but... He misses them, and as protective of his time out as he was before, he was never THAT enthusiastic in shutting people out. And I don't think anyone can like to see his friends talk around him as if he didn't exist. 

In his place I'd be mad as hell or mortally depressed. I know which route he'll take. He internalizes everything. 

"Hey... Maybe... do you think... Maybe other people could see you, under the right circumstances?" 

Reappearing, kind of blurred, sitting on the windowsill, Heero sighs melancholically. _'I don't think so. When Wufei came in, I was as visible as I knew how to be. I was standing just behind you and he didn't glance at me once. He didn't even feel my presence like you do.'_

"... oh."

__

'I can try today, when you go and see Quatre-- he's a newtype, he might feel me.'

He's grasping at straws. He sounds so depressed... I reach out automatically, before I remember that I can't touch him anyway. My hand stays frozen between us, an aborted gesture of tenderness. 

I don't like going through him. And he doesn't like it either. It's like running my hand through nearly frozen water when he's visible, or cold air when he's not; for him it's like a low-intensity electrical current that numbs his flesh, and in a quite unpleasant way. Anyway it isn't a good sensation, and the sight of it... Let's say it isn't the best way to keep on imagining that things are back just the way they were, when things were still perfect. What we have is a whole hell of a lot better than nothing. It's better not to remind ourselves of how much we lost that we took for granted before. 

+

I feel Heero hovering as I prepare for the trip, but he stays invisible. He's behind me when I walk out of the apartment, and if the neighbors see me hold the door open for no one, I don't care. Right now I couldn't stand to close the door on him as if he didn't exist. Same for the car. I find a way to open the passenger door as if putting something away, and it's only when I see his shadow pass by me and take place that I close it and walk to the other side. I see the old Mrs Morgeinsen looking at me funny, but she always thought I was all sorts of freaky since I came to live with Heero here, nine years ago. She's of the opinion that guys can only be gay if they're on the feminine side, and of course since I have long hair... Add that to my other antics and now she can see me open the door to a ghost with barely a disdainful sniff. 

He stays a mere shadow as I turn the car on; neither one of us can utter a word right now, there are too many thoughts in our heads. 

I rest my hand on the wheel, and finally find my voice. 

"... You can stay here if you want. At home I mean. It probably would be less pai-- boring not to have to ... You know. I'll be fine."

__

'... It's okay. I don't want to stay. I want to see the guys, even if... I'm going to be bored.'

See? Guys, both of us. 'Che. 

I start the car and leave the parking, the silence stretching between us once again. I drive fast. It's hurtful and confusing for both of us, the bittersweet desire to see our friends again. 

Surprisingly, Heero breaks the silence first. _'...I don't think I can anyway. Stay at home, I mean.'_

I don't commit the mistake of believing his casual tone. 

"What the hell does THAT mean?" I ask, bewildered. "Of course if you want to, you can stay at home... I could tell you what happened and--"

He's visible again--and shaking his head. _'I mean that I can't, Duo. When you're in the office, I can barely reach the kitchen door. I can't go inside._'

I don't care if I'm not supposed to park there, especially without warning, but fuck the other people. 

"What?! Why didn't you tell me before? And what do you mean, you can't go farther?!"

He sighs and looks around, frowning. Passerby are staring at me and whispering. I make a rude gesture at them and ignore their stares; Heero's the only one I care about.

__

'Duo, you're going to get arrested...!'

'"I don't give a fuck! What do you mean?" 

He growls at me. _'Drive, dammit! That woman just made a call on her cell phone! Do you want the guys to have to learn that you've been arrested because you were having an argument with a voice in your head?!'_

"You're NOT--!!" Whoa. Whoa, cold! I grit my teeth and drive the car away from that place in a hurry. "Okay, I'm driving. Can you take your hand out of my thigh now? I feel like my blood's freezing."

He does, scowling. _'I know I'm not a voice in your head, but will they?'_

"... at least if I was put away in a madhouse, I wouldn't have to pretend not to hear and see you," I grouse, just to have the last word. His hand rises threateningly, and I wince. "Okay, I was kidding. Now explain to me what you meant."

He sighs and his eyes go from intensely serious to melancholic again, and he begins to talk, softly, reluctantly. _'I just can't go any farther. I didn't notice for the longest time, because I didn't want to leave your side even a second, but in the last week, I've tried to go to another room when you were working in the office, and I had to stop at the kitchen door. It was just... a very deep reluctance. Then I tried to push past that, and I started to feel... faint. As if I was going to pass out. And I noticed that I was going see-through, but it wasn't under my control. It felt that way when I pushed myself too much, when you were resting, the first week. As if I was going to fade out because I was using up the very energy that keeps me together... Duo, watch the road!'_

I jump and realize that I've been glancing at him more and more often during his explanation, and that I didn't see the other car. I slow down in time, but it was too close for comfort. 

"... Damn."

He growls at me again. _'That's it, I'm not explaining more.'_

"Like hell you're not. Just let me find a parking lot."

__

'Duo, we're going to be late... They're going to worry!' he protests as I turn away from the main road and search for a secluded parking space. 

"They can wait. You're more important."

There, we're parked. Nice, shady, secluded place. I undo my seatbelt and turn to face him. He's still facing the windshield, head low, his hands clenched on his pants at the knee. I notice absently that it's his Preventers pants; he's never been clear enough for me to see that detail before.

"... Husband-mine? Babe, talk to me... "

__

'... I just... can't be farther than a certain distance from you. It's logical in a way. You're my anchor in this world; it makes sense that I have to stay close. But it's okay, I don't mind. I want to stay by you anyway.'

I slump against the seat, overwhelmed, choking on my guilt. I've leashed him to me like some dog. I've stolen everything from him. The right to go on to whatever was waiting for him in the afterlife, and now his freedom to go where he pleases. He can't even leave and come back later if I piss him off, which I know will happen as soon as we get used to the new situation. How long before he hates me?

A cool breeze brushes my face and I look up, surprised. He's leaning toward me, looking at me earnestly.

__

'What's wrong?'

I open my mouth to tell him "nothing" and the second after, I find myself spilling my guilt out, unable to stop. He gives me a pained look, then a little smile that's supposed to reassure me. 

__

'Duo... It's okay. I've missed you so much, I don't mind being around you. I WANT to be around you. If we have an argument, we'll find another way to cool off before making up. Another rule. We can do that. '

"... yeah... I guess."

__

'I don't feel chained by you at all. Don't be silly,' he assures me. 

"But you can't do anything!! You..."

__

'I already can't do much,' he reminds me with a sad smile. _'I'm a ghost. It's already a lot that I'm allowed to interact with you and that I can make small things move. Maybe with time I'll become stronger and be able to do more...'_

His eyes look so depressed... How does he want me to believe him? "... A lot? How can you say that? It's my fault that you're so limited. I'm so selfish. I shouldn't have bound you to me, maybe you'd be in heaven..."

He jumps and punches the dashboard. The air freshener begins to swing._ 'NO! I want to stay with you! Don't you ever doubt this. I want to stay with you. Wherever we go, we'll go together. I forbid you to feel guilty for making sure of that.'_

"Then why are you so depressed? And don't tell me you're not."

He slumps back in the seat and sighs, his eyes avoiding mine. _'...Because... I was so selfish... How could you ever forgive me?'_

... Huh?

A few seconds of silence, and then the words tumble out of his mouth, hurried, anguished. _'I left you behind. I abandoned you. I chose to die in your place, because I couldn't bear to go on living without you. And I made you go through the very thing I knew I couldn't bear. In your place I would be mad as hell that you dared to die for me. I wanted you to live as much as I didn't want to live without you. I was so selfish. So hypocritical. If I really loved you as much as I tell myself that I do, I should have thought about what you'd live with instead of myself.'_

The silence is thick between us, a third presence in the car. My words have deserted me. I didn't have a clue he felt this way. What can I answer to that?

Nothing but the truth. 

"... You're right... For a long while, I was furious. It was hell without you. But with time... I realized that it had been a decision that you had taken in under a second. If you'd had time to think about it, you would have ended up deciding the same thing I did. For you, I would endure it all again. ... And think about this my way, love. Would you ever have imagined using rituals?"

__

'... Probably not,' he concedes softly._ 'I would have killed myself right away. And I don't-- Well, I didn't believe in that supernatural stuff anyway.'_

"And then we'd both be dead. And I have no clue what would have happened. But the way it happened, we still got to end up together again. It was a good thing that you saved my life. Even though I didn't notice it for a while," I add with a little grimace.

He thinks about it, and I see a little of his anguish disappear. Just a little, though. 

"... Tell me that with the time to think about it, you wouldn't have ended up deciding to bear my death so that I wouldn't be alone. Believe me, love, I know that you didn't mean to hurt me. You meant to save me. How can I not forgive you?"

He thinks for a few minutes, then smiles at me. _'... Okay. Okay, you forgive me. Then, by your own argument, you can't feel bad for having kept me from moving on, because it ended up with us being together again, and you can't feel bad for me having to stay in range, because it sure as hell beats not being there at all.'_

I blink, then burst out laughing. He's right. It resulted by us together and that's the only important thing. Sure it's not as perfect as both being alive, but it's better than the other alternative. It's what we both want, and if we have to end up in Hell for this--if we didn't already for the mass destruction and the killings and the having sex with another man thing and a thousand other offenses-- well, at least we will sill be together, because the link the spell forged between our souls is unbreakable, and getting stronger every day. 

His hand brushes the end of the lock of hair I cut for him, pushes it behind my ear gently, and he leans close to me. His eyes are soft, gentle, and even more vividly blue that I remembered. 

__

'Ai shiteru...'

I lean forward to meet him, and for a glorious second, our lips meet. His are cold as ice, of course, but still as gently yielding to mine, still fitting so perfectly.

"Love you, Heero. 'Till death and beyond."


	6. Visiting Old Friends part 2

****

4 AM 

Author: Asuka Kureru (sequel to Two/One by Sailor Seraphim.)

****

Much Loved Beta-reader: Kitty Chou *cuddlepurr* 

****

Disclaimer: Boys not mine. Stop. Plot not mine. Stop. Well kinda. Stop. Uh. oh, hell, half-mine. Stop. 

****

Pairing: 2+1 (implied 1x2x1), slight 5+2

Warnings: Yaoi, Duo POV, _Heavy _angst, Supernatural stuff. 

****

Visiting Old Friends part 2

"Well... Here we are."  
  
_'Yes.'_  
  
"... Car's parked, I have everything in my backpack... I didn't forget anything, did I?"  
  
_'No.'_  
  
"Sure?"   
  
_'Duo, we checked three times already.'_  
  
"... We can go in."  
  
_'We can.'_  
  
Neither of us moves.   
  
Wufei's house is waiting for us at the end of the lane. It's spacious, but not too big. It looks calm, inviting. Certainly not scary. But the view of the second car parked there is enough to freeze us in our tracks.   
  
Quatre and Trowa are here.   
  
Trowa... doesn't scare me. I know he'll accept me as I am. And he's soothing to be around. But Quatre... By God, I love that man, but sometimes he doesn't understand my need to be left alone.   
  
"No need to stall."  
  
_'No need.'_  
  
"Stop agreeing with me, dammit!!"  
  
Heero smirks at me. _'But you're totally right, Duo-san. We don't need to stall.'_  
  
"ARGH!! Yeah, you can laugh! At least you can pretend you're not here-- uhh..." Oh fuck. Open mouth, insert foot.  
  
_'That's at least one good thing about being dead,'_ he answer with a snort. He looks at me, and must see me cringe, because his eyes soften. _'So what if I'm dead? I am, we can't change that, and if you call me living impaired or some other stupid politically correct crap I'll laugh in your face. As we both noticed, it isn't the end of the world.'_  
  
I guess it's morbid humor, but I can't help it, I snicker anyway. He's so fucking blunt.  
  
He nudges me, nodding toward the kitchen window-- the curtain is still moving slowly. Someone was watching. Better hurry up and hope they didn't see me laugh. I get out of the car and lock it, giving Heero a worried glance. Can he go through objects? We never tested. He doesn't like going through me. And he doesn't go through the seats or anything, so...  
  
He makes a face as he considers the door and then slides out through the window, Dukes of Hazzard style. I don't point out that the window was closed too so he may as well have gotten out the normal way; he's very sexy when he moves like that.   
  
The door opens before we reach it. Quatre is waiting, a hesitant little smile on his face. Our eyes meet, and suddenly his eyes widen and he lifts his hands to his mouth, shocked. I freeze.   
  
Did he see Heero?   
  
"Duo... You --look..." He manages a poor little smile, his voice thick with emotion. "... better."  
  
Oooh, hell, Kleenex alert. I'd so hoped to avoid that. I go to him, fast, and give him a hug. Gah, I feel so uneasy. I hope it's enough to make him feel better, because if he breaks down I don't know what I will do. I so can't deal with more emotional upsets today.   
  
He hugs me back, tight. I can't breathe. Forgot he was so strong. Luckily he releases me fast. Good, it didn't last too much longer than a friendly greeting hug should last. Wufei's neighbors won't think weird and embarrassing things about the type of friends he has. ... Not that I feel like I'm too macho for hugs, but hell, not in public! And NO, I'm definitely not blushing.   
  
He coughs in his hand and looks embarrassed for a second, but his eyes are still dancing with way too much joy. Now I'm the one who's embarrassed.   
  
_'You're adorable when you're squirming, love,'_ whispers Heero in my ear.   
  
I hide my hand from Quatre behind my back and give him a well-deserved one-fingered salute. "So, Quatre, it's been a while. How are you?"  
  
"I'm just fine," he grins back, looking at me in a way that implies that I'm at least partly responsible for his good mood. Does Wufei have a hole in his garden that I could dive in head first? I could use it right now.   
  
"Quatre, are you being sappy again? The doctor told you no more than once a week, blondie."  
  
Trowa!! My savior, light of my life, my mysterious unibanged-- "Trowa Barton, what the FUCK have you done to your hair?!"  
  
_'... Now that's an... interesting look on him.'_  
  
"It's not a fucking interesting look, it's just goddamn weird!! Trowa, man, where is your BANG?!" I wail, petting his hair. The bang is still here... except not. It's SHORT. Like, no longer than down to his cheekbone. He looks like NOIN!! At least it's still flopping down over one of his eyes; I couldn't live with seeing both of them at the same time, now could I?  
  
The green-eyed one gives me a funny look and reaches out, tugging on one of my locks. The one I chopped off for Heero. Um, oops?  
  
"You're one to talk. At least my haircut makes sense."  
  
"What happened?" Quatre asks, looking faintly worried. He knows how much I love my hair as well as them all.  
  
I turn red and squirm. "I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Got caught in a fan?"  
  
"I SAID I don't want to talk about it," I answer, messing up Trowa's shortened bang in retaliation.  
  
"Ooh, that must be really embarrassing then," he answers. I'm doomed.   
  
The door is pushed wider open before I'm forced to come up with something that would make them drop the subject without being a lie. Thank God. Wufei, if I weren't a married man I'd kiss you.  
  
"What's going on here?"   
  
"Oh, nothing," Quatre deadpans, his eyes glowing with mirth. "Trowa and Duo are molesting each other's hair."  
  
"I don't know you," the traitor deadpans back, closing the door.   
  
The three of us blink at the door, unbelieving.   
  
"... Did he just... lock us out?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
Beside us, Heero's shoulders are shaking with silent laughter.   
  
+  
  
The meal is a little calmer than our first encounter on Wufei's lawn, thank God. We're not teenagers anymore, and I can't maintain that level of carefree amusement all day. It's hard to avoid glancing at where Heero's presence is lurking, and it's harder not to think about how lonely he must feel, ignored by everyone. But I know that he won't like it if I go glum and don't enjoy the reunion because of him. So I do enjoy, and we do discuss grand ideas and exchange petty gossip, and for once it's good to think about the life of someone else.   
  
Once the meal finished, Wufei and Trowa fight over the right to wash the dishes. Quatre wants to say something to Trowa and I use the moment to slip away, pretending that I want to check out Wufei's home... Which isn't untrue, but it's also that I need a few minutes to relax. I'm not used to being social anymore. And I want to check on Heero pretty badly too.   
  
I slide in Wufei's unlit study discretely.   
  
_'Daring escape. Executed with flawless skill.'_  
  
"Oh, shaddap," I mutter after checking that no one is following. "It was very nice but I could have done without their questioning looks that disappeared whenever I noticed them."  
  
_'Still better than them asking directly.'_  
  
"... Yeah, I guess." Quatre wouldn't be satisfied with the evasive answer I gave Wufei and if there is another reason that I don't lie apart from my promise, it's that as a liar I just plain suck. I can evade, I can redirect, I can play with words, but ask me to make up something up front and I won't need two minutes before I'm babbling and contradicting myself. Unless I imagined the lie hours ago and spent my time reciting the finest details in my head not to get them wrong, but somehow, I'm not able to willfully spend time thinking about what sort of lie I will tell my friends if -- when-- they ask. I'll play it by ear or something when the time comes, but I refuse that level of betrayal. And if they catch me lying... well, that's a risk I'm willing to take to repay them for cheating on their trust in the first place.  
  
I see Heero's shadow in a dark corner. A small object is nudged and rolls on its base. I recognize a chess pawn.   
  
"Is that a subtle hint, love?"  
  
He smirks at me, a flash of white teeth in the dark corner.   
  
Chuckling, I go to the chessboard and move it to the table, taking place on one of the wooden stools. It's a simple but beautiful set. It reminds me of all the games we played during the last months of the war. Developed lateral thinking, Quatre said, and that sounded a lot like what G had been telling me -- I hadn't listened because it seemed boring, but it actually was interesting to watch-- so me and Trowa learned. Quatre and Heero already knew how to play, and their duels were truly beautiful... And very, very long. Like, stretching-over-a-week long. Of course back then either one of them could flatten me in about four moves. Wufei had not been taught chess, but Go -- or Wei Qi as he insisted on calling it-- and he took to chess faster than Tro and me.  
  
It was a good, if weird, period of our lives. Five pilots who had been fighting side by side but never truly met, having to get used to being part of a unit before the last big battle... and we knew that what was coming would probably be one of our hardest battles yet, but in the meantime, there was nothing to do.  
  
Except get to know each other, and play chess.  
  
_'Woolgathering? That's promising.'_  
  
"Whoops, sorry babe." I set up the pawns, shaking myself out of it. I've never been able to beat Heero yet, but I've been getting better. I know he'll probably keep on getting better just as I do, but maybe after a while he'll slow down or reach a plateau or something... In the meantime, it gives me training for when I want to kick Tro and Fei's butts.  
  
_'... Duo...? Would it bother you to move my pawns for me?'_  
  
I look up, startled, and notice how blurred he is.   
  
_'Relax, I just want to conserve energy.'_  
  
Translation, he's getting tired. "... Of course, love. You don't need to stay visible either, it's okay."  
  
His smile shows a hint of relief. He disappears slowly, only a faint shadow indicating his place.   
  
We start to play, and soon get absorbed in the game. It's so very weird-- for the first time in years I'm not just repeating an old game for the nth time or making one up from what I saw of him playing other people, I'm actually playing with him. He's actually making new decisions, inventing new strategies...   
  
He's really there.  
  
I wonder why it hits me so hard. It's been several weeks since I got him back. I had time to get used to it, didn't I?  
  
But it's still a miracle. And I'm very glad to realize that I'm not starting to take him for granted. I will never commit this mistake again.   
  
I'm still beaming dumbly when I notice Wufei's presence.  
  
"Uhm..."  
  
"I was wondering where you had gone," he comments casually as he comes in, looking around the room. For a second his eyes are a bit weird-- cold and calculating, as if he was scanning the room for intruders.  
  
"... Wufei?"  
  
He shakes his head and gives me a tiny smirk. "Nothing. I just thought I heard you talk with someone. I was wondering--"  
  
His eyes fall on the board and he stops talking.   
  
"Oh... Nostalgia... Been a while since I played," I explain when I see him look. My brain is working at a hundred miles a second. Did he just hear my voice, or ...?  
  
Correction, he's not looking, he's staring at the board.  
  
_'Duo, he's suspicious...'_  
  
Weird, that's exactly what I was thinking. I wonder what he's suspicious over, the game or the conversation-- I wonder if he heard Heero's voice, even if it was too softly for him to make it out-- I wonder if he thinks I've gone mad.   
  
Good thing I was the one moving all the pieces. But Heero's style and mine are very, very distinct. No one knowing how to play can mistake his for mine.   
  
"Duo, you--"  
  
"Wanna play? It's interesting to play against yourself but not really challenging, you know."  
  
After a few seconds of staring at me --no doubt searching for hints that I'm having a huge breakdown over my game against the memory of Heero (because I'm not stupid enough to think that he hasn't recognized the style) --he relaxes, and nods slowly.   
  
I reset the pieces and he takes place in front of me. We exchange a polite little bow. And then the carnage begins.   
  
I progressed a lot since the war, but he did too. And going against someone else than Heero is yet another challenge. This is so fun.  
  
I am still getting my ass kicked, though.   
  
_'... Duo... Do you want to tell them ever?'_  
  
Huh?  
  
_'About me... Of course not now, not yet, but... Do you? Eventually?'_  
  
My first reaction is goddamit, no fucking way in hell. I never even visualized that idea; I know they would have me committed if I went to them and told them that I have invoked Heero's spirit and that he is now following me around and making snarky comments at random moments. But there's only to remember his forlorn expression as his friends smile-- and ignore him-- and my decision is made. I pretend to think about the game as I sign under the table in our old war code. **Maybe. Later. If No Risk.**  
  
He coalesces slowly behind Wufei, his voice almost inaudible. _'... Then maybe... It would be good to make them doubt. You'll convince them better if they're already convincing themselves.'_  
  
I hide a little smirk. **Devious. Melikes.**  
  
There's no risk involved, right? We're going to go very slowly, test the waters so to speak, and either they're broad-minded enough to accept and we can tell them, or they aren't and they won't even realize we were asking a question.  
  
_'Your queen in B3.'_  
  
I move my queen as recommended, breaking my pattern of attack. Wufei's eyebrow arches.   
  
+  
  
Ten minutes later, Wufei's king is laying on his side on the board and I'm smiling innocently at him. He looks thoroughly weirded out.  
  
Heero appears at my side, smirking. We've been switching strategies here and there, totally confusing the poor guy. We even had to tease him and not play too seriously because he was distracted at first, for some reason... but he didn't stay distracted long. Now he's giving me a weird look, slightly surprised, slightly offended, amused too... and confused. Very confused.  
  
He hesitates. "Duo... where..."  
  
I know what he wants to ask, but I want to tease him more. "Where do you put the pawns? Well, you see, the tower goes there..."  
  
"Not that, idiot. Did... You got better at chess."  
  
"You don't have to sound so surprised," I answer, sounding like I'm offended. He snorts at me, relaxing slightly.   
  
"Some of those moves..." He hesitates again. It's so weird to see him pussyfooting around an issue. Wufei isn't one for sensitivity. He bombs his way through if it doesn't yield. Is he convinced that I'm that frail?   
  
"I've been repeating my games with Heero for the last seven years; if I hadn't learned anything from them I would have been a very poor student indeed," I answer calmly. Maybe a little too calmly, I notice as he gives me a sharp look. He was probably expecting pain; this is the first time I utter my husband's name in public without prompting. I give him a weak smile, hoping that it will stall him and feeling bad all the while for the implicit lie in my smile.  
  
I feel a cold hand land on my shoulder, for just a second, and from the corner of my eye I can see Heero. He's so visible... and doesn't look as ethereal as he always does. He looks almost as he did when he was alive. I relax a little. This is for Heero.   
  
"... You have? ... You remember them?" Wufei asks, faintly surprised.  
  
"Yes. Well, not all of them, but the best ones... The ones who marked me..."   
  
He looks impressed. "You have a very good memory."  
  
Huh. Now that's a smooth change of subject of conversation. But it doesn't matter, if it makes him more comfortable and me less prone to having to lie. Now if we could please can change the subject a little bit more.   
  
Great friend that he is, Wufei grants my wish. "Well... The other guests should be here in a few hours..."  
  
"Waitaminute. Other guests?"   
  
I think I liked the old discussion better.  
  
"... Well, yes," Wufei answers slowly as he puts the pawns away, giving me a puzzled frown. "Quatre didn't tell you when he called?"  
  
Because yes, the meeting has been arranged by Quatre, sneaky bastard that he is. Nice and fluffy my ass. That guy is ruthlessly manipulative.   
  
"No. He didn't." I'm aware that I'm gritting my teeth, but dammit, I am NOT ready to see anyone but the guys.  
  
_'Who-- Duo, ask him who.'_  
  
I glance at Heero, my anger diminishing a little. I can't help but feel a tiny pinch of pain. For a second he forgot that Wufei couldn't hear him.  
  
"Wu..."  
  
He doesn't wait for me to ask, though. Probably guessed what I want to know. "Une will drop Mariemeya off this afternoon."  
  
There's a fond look on his face. Mariemeya kinda latched onto him as a mentor and uncle figure after the coup. They figured out where they went wrong and learned to adapt to the new peace together. He talks to her about Treize sometimes. He teaches her sword fighting and meditation too. It's an odd relationship but it works. Of course, now that she's not eight anymore, but sixteen, she has this cute crush on him, but he doesn't notice. Or pretends not to, I'm not quite sure to which point his clueless-ness is only pretenses. I guess it's kind of uncomfortable; at her age, we were adults, and I guess she does think herself mature, but to Wufei, she's still the child he protected for her father.   
  
"Hilde is coming too, I think, if she can finish early enough-- did you know that she has been assigned as Relena's bodyguard recently? Her hours are quite erratic..."   
  
I smile. It's been so long since I saw Hilde. Nowadays we have drifted apart-- I drifted away-- but we were very close for a while after the war. She went to the Preventers with me when we sold the yard; I think she left a year or so after Heero's death. I'm not sure, really. No one really talked to me about the Preventers after Heero died, except for the discharge papers.   
  
"... Relena will probably come with her..."  
  
I stop smiling. "That bitch."  
  
Wufei turns around, surprised, but I ignore him. Heero's staring at me, his vividly blue eyes wide and hurt.   
  
He has always admired Relena. Before we got together, I was really insecure about that, but I finally learned to accept that he loves me, not her, and he never will leave me for anyone, especially not her. Seven years ago, I was finally able to see him leave on bodyguard duty with a smile, my heart at peace and trusting.   
  
Well, that's the last he knows of my relationship with her at any rate.  
  
_'Duo, why--'_ "What did she ever do to you?" they ask at the same time, frowning but trying to contain their surprise and disappointment.   
  
"Why do you think the dear lady has done anything to me? She's way too nice for that, isn't she?"  
  
_'Stop that. What's wrong?'_  
  
Wufei is staring at me; I know what he's going to ask. Good thing his answer and Heero's are the same.  
  
"Nothing's wrong."  
  
"Nothing?"  
  
"Nothing. I just don't like her. Feel free to like her or not; I don't care if you've changed your mind about her, Wufei. Just don't ask me to."  
  
_'I though-- I thought you didn't mind her anymore...'_ Heero sounds heartbroken. I feel sorry for him; I know how important she is to him, and I know how hard it is when the people you love most can't stand each other.  
  
Wufei scowls, his black eyes narrowed. "She isn't the ridiculously ignorant idealist she was as a teenager; of course I changed my mind. I thought you had too."  
  
I turn away. I don't want to look at them, standing side by side and with the same disappointed frown on their faces.   
  
"I had. I changed it again," I growl. How bitter I sound. I'd like to be a better person, but I'm not. Yes, I can't stand her for a petty reason, something she probably didn't even think about. But those are my feelings and I am not Heero, able to rationalize at his likes and dislikes until they shift to fit his philosophy of life. My feelings are not rational, and they will never be.  
  
I pace in the room, not looking at them, pretending to look through Wufei's books and knickknacks. Their eyes are burning a hole in my head.   
  
"You want to know?"  
  
"Yes," Wufei answers firmly.   
  
_'...yes,'_ whispers Heero.   
  
I take a deep breath. This is going to be hard to talk about. But they deserve to know.  
  
"It dates back from Heero's death."  
  
I see Wufei cringe. I wonder what he's thinking. Maybe it annoys him that everything is about Heero's death for me. I know how hard he wants me to stop centering myself on that moment.   
  
"It was... When it happened... You know how the mass media threw themselves at the-- the mission, Wufei."  
  
Of course he knows. For a month after I woke up, he and my other friends spent their time changing channels on TV and "losing" the newspapers. Heero doesn't, though. Of course. He was kinda dead at the time. I swallow a fit of hysterical laughter.  
  
"I know I was in no state to be interviewed, and believe me I'll never be grateful enough for the way you all protected me from the bastards who wanted nothing more than a scoop from the... surviving agent."  
  
It was the first big mess-up of the Preventers and people had talked about it a lot, especially since it involved two of its most controversial and well-known agents. In that new era of peace, the blood and chaos needed to boost the sales was always hard to find. Heero's body wasn't even cold yet that the vultures were already swooping down.   
  
"I asked Quatre once, how his burial went... I thought he'd been the one to take care of it. But somehow, she managed to get him to let her do it. 'You're tired, Quatre'. 'Take care of Duo, he needs you, Quatre'. 'It will help me with my own grief if I can do that much, Quatre'. And so..."  
  
Wufei frowns, probably not seeing this as anything worth demonizing Relena over. He's right. Objectively, it's not. But I never pretended that my petty hate was objective. As much as she "loved" Heero, she had no business pushing herself into our family. She was not one of us.  
  
"... So... Here I was, on an operation table, and she was getting photographed in her designer black dress, kneeling artfully on Heero's grave, crying her eyes out as if her heart had been ripped to shreds. You have seen the headlines: 'Earth's Sweetheart Loses her Knight!!' 'Dramatic End to the Romance Between Two Heroes of the Eve Wars!!' Do you know how it felt to see that magazine?! It felt like getting shot in the chest again. Just a big fucking hollow where my heart should have been."  
  
I don't tell him that it's finding that tabloid that prompted my second suicide attempt, just as I was recovering from the first. I almost succeeded too; if Trowa hadn't been used to snatching Catherine from the air, he wouldn't have managed to catch me in time. Splat. He reopened my wrist, too, but not enough to cause anything else than making me stay a week longer in bed. I hated him for that, but not as much as Quatre for being distressed enough to let our friends know about what I had tried.   
  
"... So... I was here, trying not to feel like Heero h-had been taken from me again --" fucking throat, stop squeezing, I need to talk, I need to tell them-- "and then she came in, looking at me with those sad, red-rimmed eyes --they weren't even puffy, she looked like a goddamn actress -- and tried to tell me that 'Heero would have wanted me to...' Would have wanted me to what? What did she know about what he wanted? Who is she to dare to tell me how to bear my grief? She wasn't the one who had just lost the other half of her soul! She was just-- just the one receiving calls and cards from all over the Earth Sphere for "her loss". Her WHAT? Heero was never hers! He's mine!! MINE!!! She has no right--"   
  
Wufei's chest muffles my sobs. His arms are tight around me. Lean, but muscular. And strong, almost painfully so. His body type is so familiar... For a second I allow myself to imagine that I'm in Heero's arms once again, but he smells all wrong and it's hard to pretend.  
  
"... she had no right..."  
  
"... Shhhh... Breathe, Duo..."  
  
Wufei's voice is soft, a bit uneasy, but also tender and caring. Later I will feel bad for feeding his hope that I will ever want more from him that his support and friendship, but right now, I need him.   
  
I stay buried in his embrace for a few minutes before I control my hysterical sobs. I look over his shoulder, searching for Heero, my eyes wide suddenly. I'm letting Wufei hold me so possessively, what does he think of that?! Maybe--  
  
_'Calm down, Duo, I'm here,'_ he whispers. I can't see him, I can't see his face, what is he thinking...  
  
_'Relax. Let Wufei help you. You need human contact, anata.'_  
  
"... Heero..." I whisper, my voice strangled with pain. Wufei's hold tightens and he starts to rock me gently.   
  
A faint, almost colorless shadow in the corner, Heero is watching us, his so blue eyes thoughtful. I can see the pain caused by my hate for Relena and the bad memories he was indirectly the source of in those irises. _'... There's still more you need to say. So say it. We're listening.' I need to listen,_ he doesn't add, but I know that he's thinking it. He needs to know what happened while he was gone, while he was still waiting in limbo for me to call him back.   
  
"What hurts so much... You know we didn't-- we never let people know that we were married. Only close friends."  
  
Wufei nods. He understands. We got enough of a rep from being former Gundam pilots and Preventers agents, we didn't need to deal with the grief of officially being in a homosexual relationship. There are still so many bigots in that supposed age of tolerance and love. Give people a survey to fill and the answers will mostly be the same ; that people they would never hear of love people of their own gender is fine with everyone -- so long as they don't know those people personally, because of course knowing someone gives you the right to approve or not of their relationships (yes, that was sarcasm). But us, as heroes of the war, as hated terrorists, as respected agents of a sometimes controversial agency, we weren't faceless strangers to the masses. They believe that it gives them somewhat of a right to know and judge. We didn't want to bother.   
  
"He's my husband. Not hers. He was nothing more than her friend. But to the world-- to the world we were nothing to each other. Most of the time I didn't mind no one knowing. I didn't want them gaping and pointing. But-- but knowing, that to the world, Heero belonged with Relena... That he'd died loving her... It just-- I couldn't take it. I still can't."   
  
Wufei is still rocking me slowly, gently. He caresses my hair, slightly hesitant --I tense up when he fingers the lock I cut for Heero, which, freed from the rest, ends just a bit higher than my jaw. Even that distraught, my hair is off-limits. I'm glad when he lets his hand drop to rub my back instead.  
  
"Duo-- She never told anyone that her and Heero were anything more than friends. She never even implied it. You're being unfair."   
  
_'I know that a lot of tabloids published on us, but we always laughed at them -- do you remember? Once I gave her a box with a roll of film inside and people started congratulating me in the streets for finally getting her an engagement ring?'_  
  
I snort. I remember. We all laughed at that. Somehow it isn't as funny now.   
  
"She never, never said that Heero loved her," Wufei tells me, his tone gently scolding. "She didn't even admit that she loved Heero, even though... You know that she did have feelings for him. She never officially announced that her and Heero had been anything at his death."  
  
My voice turns spiteful, and I hate myself, but I can't stop it. "She never officially denied it either. They all implied that they were so in love, that he'd been cut down in the prime of his life before he could propose and their fairytale could end with bliss and a truckload of brats, and she never denied it."  
  
Wufei gives me a disappointed look. "Heero had just died, Duo. I think she was thinking of more important things than the papparazzi's perceptions of her relationships."  
  
"It was important to me."  
  
His stern expression disappears slowly, and I feel a twist to my heart. He considers my decision unfair, and yet, he will still be there for me. The circle of people he bends his ethics for has to be just as small as the one who got to see Heero's true smiles.   
  
Heero who is still standing behind Wufei and watching us, with his eyes which are the last thing in him to still possess color. They're blazingly blue, unreal, while the rest of him is nothing more than gray smoke and vague sepia shadows.  
  
It feels like he sees right through me.  
  
_'That's a lot of hate to have for someone for an indirect offence, Duo,'_ he whispers softly... _'What's the other reason?'_  
  
... What?   
  
... damn him for being so perceptive. Damn him for seeing what I didn't even want to admit to myself. Damn him for knowing me so well.   
  
Wufei is still watching me, and suddenly he frowns thoughtfully, as if someone had hit a switch. "Even though you hate like you love, powerfully, you aren't one to start hating easily. Are you sure this is everything?"  
  
I stare, gaping. Is that a coincidence that Wufei had that idea just after Heero talked about it? Or is he unconsciously, subliminally hearing him? Heero's eyes are two burning sapphires, trying to burn a hole into Wufei's head to understand how that thought came to him.  
  
Maybe he, too, just knows me too well.  
  
"... Of course--Of course I'm sure, what kind of question...!"  
  
I wonders why it sounds like I'm in denial.   
  
He shakes his head slowly. He's thinking the same thing, I can see it.  
  
"I don't think you're finished, Duo. Keep going. Keep explaining," he prompts me.   
  
Heero looks like he's in pain. I don't know if it's in sympathy for me or because of my hate for someone he loves. Probably both. I hate myself for tearing him inside. _'You knew that you hated her when...?'_  
  
I search for that moment of clarity, for the first surge of burning loathing. "...When I saw that picture. I knew that I hated her then."  
  
"That picture?"  
  
"Her. In her elegant black dress. With lace. Black lace. A shroud. So beautiful. She had poise and grace, and she still looked like she'd lost her reason for going on -- like everyone should look on a burial. Show some regret. Mourning fit her so well. She was leading them all, though. She was hurting bad, it showed, and she still fought to keep together, to make sure that Heero went on his last trip with every honor than should be his, every proof of love. She was dignified. ...It should have been me."   
  
Can ghosts cry? Heero has his back to me. I can't tell.  
  
"... she went... on his grave... she went. And I didn't. She went and I didn't."  
  
Wherever we'll go, we'll go together, that was our motto... Except that for his last trip, his most important trip, I wasn't with him.  
  
"... I wasn't there..."  
  
"You were at the hospital--"  
  
I place my hand on Wufei's mouth. I don't want him to make excuses for me. I was alive and Heero wasn't and it was the last I could have done, except I didn't do it.  
  
"... I didn't go to his funeral, Wufei... I didn't go to his funeral..."  
  
I don't remember much from the next --minutes? Hours? It could be days for all I know. All I remember is the sobs forcing their way out of my throat until I taste blood and Wufei's sleeve wiping my nose regularly, and incoherent babbling that wouldn't make sense even if I wasn't mixing my native English with Japanese and Arabic words, trying to mesh dozens of concepts within sentences that don't have either beginning or end.  
  
I remember Wufei's solid warmth, his arms rubbing my back, I remember Heero trailing cool kisses along my neck; I remember their whispered reassurances, their echoing encouragements.  
  
It's the first time that I let my tears fall freely.   
  
It's kinda weird to be finally grieving for Heero when I just got him back. But--the stages of mourning-- denial, anger, bargaining, and acceptance-- my phases of denial and anger got a tad mixed up, I think, and I don't believe I ever went past them before entering the next. The phase of bargaining-- well, what did I do when I started to search for a way to get past Heero's death? And now, it's only when Heero is back with me that I can finally let go of the furor at the injustice that was his death and refusal to accept the inevitable, which were the only things fueling me during those years without him.   
  
If I had stopped denying... If I had stopped bargaining... He wouldn't be here with me today.   
  
It is only now that I can let go; when I don't need to fight the hard, cold reality of his death anymore. It is only now that I can mourn him.  
  
+  
  
I think we're all startled when there's a knock at the door. Heero disappears and Wufei and I jump apart, just as embarrassed. He pulls on his shirt to straighten out the wrinkles, then opens the door.   
  
Quatre is there, giving us a serious, slightly sad look, but then his lips quirk a bit in a soft smile. "The guests will be here in a half-hour at the most, Duo. Do you want me to call them and cancel?"  
  
Like hell I'm going to ruin their reunion even more than I already did. I shake my head. "No thanks, Quat. Today was already a lot. I need a nap," I add with a self-depreciating smirk. "Maybe next time I'll manage to stay longer."  
  
He nods, his smile widening a bit, turning more heartfelt. "Right. So... Trowa's in the kitchen if you want to say goodbye."  
  
I punch his shoulder lightly as I walk past him, as a sort of excuse for my haste to escape the emotionally-charged scene.   
  
"Hey, Tro?"   
  
"... Yeah?"   
  
Hmm, what's that catch in his voice? Let me guess, he knows. Not surprising when I think of it-- Quatre always knows, and they were probably together when I started bawling. That and it's been hours since I disappeared, they probably checked on us at some point, I was just too out of it to notice.  
  
"I wanted to say goodbye to your Unibanglessness," I comment with a smile. If I pretend that my face can't compete with a blowfish painted in red, maybe he'll pretend along with me. Trowa's great at that stuff.   
  
He gives me a haughty look. "You may." I start laughing. His humor always surprises me when I less expect it.   
  
Playing along, I curtsey, batting my eyelashes at him. "If your Unibanglessness permits it, I shall take my leave, kind sire."  
  
He loses when his lips curve into a smile first.   
  
"See you later, Duo."  
  
A handshake and I'm on my way out. I like how uncomplicated he is.   
  
Wufei and Quatre are waiting outside. I get a hug from Blondie and a light punch on my arm from Wufei. I punch him back, and we look at each other for a few seconds, our fists on each other's arm. Then I nod at them and leave.   
  
Heero's waiting for me in the car.   
  
_'That was a good day,'_ he says thoughtfully.   
  
I think, and then I nod. Yes. Yes, despite the breakdown-- or maybe even because of it-- it was.


End file.
